The Walking Dead
by PrussianTails
Summary: All Matt wanted was for Mello to talk to him again, but he had no idea what that would really mean.


A/N: ..I wrote a T rated story? Wow.. Written for Halloween competition on MangaBullet with Guns n Games.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Minor Blood, Character Death(s).

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Death Note, or the song.

Word Count: 3246

**Snap crack snap rip crinkle **

The repetitive sounds of you eating your chocolate bar. You snap of pieces and shatter then in your mouth by pushing your tongue up towards the roof of your mouth, ignoring the small cuts it sometimes causes. You never feel it. At least, you never show that it effects you. You're unnaturally silent. You've been this way for a while now. Currently you're sitting against the non existent head board on our bed., staring at your boot clad feet.

"You never talk to me anymore, Mello. Please, tell me what's wrong so I can help you." I spoke as I sat on the edge of the bed. I went to grab his hand but he moved it suddenly, carding his fingers through his hair. "Mello..?" You bypass me and climb off the bed, unzipping your vest and unlacing your boots. The leather slips down your arms into a puddle on the floor. Boots are kicked against the wall and nimble fingers work at the laces of your pants. My breath hitches and you walked out the door, across the hall to the bathroom.

I slowly rise and follow you, stopping at the closed door. You didn't lock it. You never do. But there's something keeping me from entering. My heart wrenches as I hear you openly weep. I can almost see you sitting in the spray of the water, letting it wash over you, baptizing you in the warm spray, washing away your sins. You have so many regrets. So many things you don't want me to know about. But I do, Mello. And I don't hate you for it. I love you even more. I want to protect you. So, why won't you let me? I hear you curse and a sob choked in your throat as I rest my forehead on the door. I'm not sure how long I stand there before I slide to the floor in my own sorrows.

**I'd rather be dead than to live like this  
>Than to just exist a hand and no fist<br>See the walking dead around me  
>Waking up and breaking down before my eyes<br>Rather be dead, rather shoot and miss  
>Rather die for a kiss than to live like this<br>**

You're so reckless. Did you know that? L always said your wild and active personality would get you in trouble one day. You're proving him right, you know. You used to be so careful. Not wanting me to see the proof of the job you do on the side for the Mafia. Payment for their help with you tracking Kira and the notebooks. They've turned you into a killer, but at least you used to wash the blood from your hands before you came home. To hide it from me. Protect me. For a while you really thought I didn't know. I always did. But I played this game with you for _your_ protection.

"You're going to get yourself arrested or worse, killed, if you aren't more careful." I scold you mildly. I can't be too angry with you, after all. You ignore me. Like always. You don't even seem to have heard me. I sigh regretfully. You never were that talkative. Conversation wasn't something you were big on. But now I long to hear you bark orders at me. To treat me like your dog once again. But there's nothing. I'm receiving the worst punishment you could bestow upon me. I move over to where you lounge on the couch, still covered in the blood of your latest kill. You look through me. You're eyes are so cold and dead. I fall to my knees. "Please, Mello. Talk to me. What has happened to you?" I beg. You shift your gaze and stand, moving past me and to the bedroom. The soft click echoes in the quiet apartment.

What did I do wrong?

**Hear the walking dead surround me  
>Giving in and giving up because<strong>

You sleep like an angel. I can't help but watch you. I rarely sleep anymore. I'm too afraid for you. You start out in the fetal position, hugging your knees to your chest as you weep again. But as you fall into a deeper sleep, you release the death grip on your legs, and stretch out. You reach for me, but never touch me. Like contact isn't allowed. I know you yearn for me as much as I do you, so why don't you let yourself follow through? I don't know why I can't take that last bit of distance and close it myself, but I can't.

I'm sorry, Mello.****

**We're all doing fine  
>And we're falling fast behind<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing our minds<br>We're all doing fine  
>Is there anyplace to hide?<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing<br>We're losing our minds**

I can hear L in my head now. Telling me to let go. Let go of what? I'm not sure. You? Never. No, I'll never give up on you, even if I lose my sanity or life. You're the most important thing to me. I have to save you. But he whispers often. I don't know why my subconscious is irritating me so much. It tugs at my heart strings to think about leaving you. I couldn't if I wanted to. I'm too far gone with you. That one night we shared before we kidnapped Takada, and helped bring about the downfall of Kira. How we _both_ managed to escape with our lives, I'll never know. But I'll never complain either.****

**We walk tonight  
><strong>

The whispers grow more urgent. Is there something I need to do for you, Mello? Do you need me to leave for a while? Do you need your space? For the first time, I doubt myself where you're concerned. Usually you so openly ask.. No.. You _demand_ the things you need. Whether it be my hacking a system for you, leaving you alone, or crawling into bed with you. Anything you've ever wanted, I have obeyed without question. But now you're silent. I'm not sure how to deal with this side of you.

**I'd rather be dead than to have no hope inside  
>Watch my will bleed away and my soul divide<br>Feel the walking dead around me  
>Getting closer moving farther from the light<br>I'd rather be dead, stay alive to find  
>Somewhere I belong, someone to call mine<br>See the walking dead surround me  
>See the life and see the death and now<br>**

You're acting even more strange. You seem to have a bottle of vodka permanently in your hand. You only go out when you need more alcohol or chocolate. Now you're smoking. You used to lecture me about it. Rather, you light them, and puff on them, but you don't even inhale. Right now, I'm sitting on the couch, watching you. I raise an eyebrow as I watch you play one of my games. It feels like it's been forever since I picked up a controller myself. I've been so focused on you, that I haven't even through about them. You aren't even doing much. Just walking around shooting random people you see, completely unaware that you're on teams, and they're yelling at you for friendly fire. You never would wear the headset. There's a reason I never put us on teams when I could get you to play. I watch as my beloved controller falls to the ground. You curl up on your side again, and the shooting in the background is still going.

"It's not the same." You whisper. My breath hitches, and I crawl closer on the couch, laying across it, along your body that's on the floor. "I'm sorry, Matt." You cry out, pulling the blanket you had over your shoulders up over your head as you wail to the dark apartment that flickers with the light of the game.

"Mello." I want to pull you to me. I really do. "I'm here. It's ok. Talk to me." You shiver as I move a few strands of your silky hair, but that's it. You cry yourself to sleep on the floor, another empty bottle next to you.

**We're all doing fine  
>And we're falling fast behind<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing our minds<br>We're all doing fine  
>Is there anyplace to hide?<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing<br>We're losing our minds**

I don't know how I didn't notice them before. I feel so stupid. All I do is watch you, and I missed something so severe? Unacceptable. Your arms and body are covered in cuts. Some shallow scratches, some more bolder, deeper. All scabbing over, some scars. I can tell you've been doing it for some time now. How much time has passed with us living like this, exactly? I couldn't say. But I can tell somehow I have neglected you. I never would have noticed, if I hadn't caught you. You left the bathroom door open. I saw you sitting in the bathroom, your hunting knife making jagged cuts in your arm and thighs. Blood drips everywhere. You don't even wince in pain anymore. You stand on wobbly feet, and grab some pills you have on the counter, swallowing them dry. I whimper in fear as you climb into the running shower and slide down to the floor.

"I.. I can't do this anymore." You whisper. Do what? Live like this? Then don't! Talk to me! I can see blood gushing from your veins steadily, but all I can do is watch. Fuck, I'm so useless!

**Reach out  
>I never get it<br>It's just out of reach and  
>I watch it slipping away<br>Reach out  
>Just forget it<br>It's never good enough  
>It's never going to be the same<strong>

You're laying in bed now. You're even worse. Still quiet, but you barely move. You don't even eat chocolate anymore. You just light a cigarette, puffing before it goes out, and taking generous swigs from that bottle. You don't even eat at all. I know you've lost your will to live, but I don't understand why. I knew you were always too good for me, but I thought you still loved me. That I was what you wanted regardless. That we lived for each other. We've accomplished so much together. Been through so many things, good and bad. Why now? Why after we accomplished the biggest goal of all?

I can't take the silence anymore. I'm going to lose it. I get off the bed, and leave you to stare at the ceiling blankly. I know exactly what's in the stereo. Neither of us have touched it since that night you made love to me. I push the play button on the attached iPod, launching the apartment into sudden sound. You jerk upwards in surprise. Finally a reaction! Your eyes are wide and you look around frantically.

"Matt?" You call out to me. You look right at me for a moment before your eyes go blank and look through me once again. Your chin falls to your chest and your shoulders shake. I didn't mean to upset you, Mello. But you surprise me as the noises get louder, and I recognize your laughter. Your head is thrown back as you laugh openly. But it isn't joyous, no. It's completely demented. What happened to you, Mello? I'm worried.****

**We're all doing fine  
>Is there anyplace to hide?<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing<br>We're losing our minds**

You're blaming me now. Your silence is broken as you thrash the apartment. The only things you don't touch in your fury are my things. My games. My clothes. They look so out of place in the damage from the tornado known as Mello. Tables are flipped. The couch is slashed. Any remaining food is smashed against walls, with exploding containers. Your clothes are ripped up and thrown about. Pages torn from your favorite novels. Your computer is smashed. I don't know what to do anymore, Mello. I don't know what I can do to save you. You avoid contact with me, sidestepping any time I get close to pulling you into my embrace.

"Why, Matt?" You continue to yell. Not once do you look at me or allow me to speak. You just yell more. Scream and cry, thrash and punch holes in the wall. Man, the landlord is going to be pissed. Good thing we use aliases, cause I am not paying for this.

With a final smash of a lamp against the wall, you crumble into yourself to the floor. Maybe I should find you some one who can help you? A professional? I see you pull a piece of paper from the debris to you, your hand searching for a pen as well. I try to see what you write, but you won't let me. Why are you being so secretive now? You tell me everything.

**We're all doing fine  
>And we're falling fast behind<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing our minds<br>We're all doing fine  
>Is there anyplace to hide?<br>I don't think we'll be the same again  
>We're losing<br>We're losing our minds**

You won't sleep. You just stare at the words on the paper. It's like you're mulling it over. You're so pale now. So skinny. I try to convince you to eat, but to no avail. Fuck, Mello, if you don't respond soon, I'm calling EMT's. Or worse. I'll call Near. I'm beside myself with worry, and at a loss of what to do. Slowly, you rise from the floor, with the first glimpse of determination I've seen in you in months. You carry your precious paper with you as you go to our room. You strip off you sweat pants and toss them aside. You pull on a pair of my black boxers. I'm pretty sure I wore those that night. That was the pair you pulled off of me and down my legs. Has it been so long since I've done laundry? The realization hits me kinda of hard. Have I done anything but watch you? You also grab my black and white striped t-shirt, and nuzzle your face into it, inhaling deeply. It confuses me, and melts my heart in one go. You pull it on, and hold the sleeves in your palms, wrapping your arms around your waist, you fold into yourself with a strangled cry. I watch mesmerized, but you remain on your feet. Your bare feet pad back to the living room, and you stand before the overturned dinning room table. Righting it, you put the paper down, and move back to the room. I don't follow. I finally get to lean over the paper and read what you wrote.

_Matt,_

_I'm sorry. I know I promised you that I would try to go on, but I can't. I need you. I can't live with the guilt and weight of the sins on my shoulders. Everything is my fault, and I don't deserve forgiveness. I was supposed to be the strong one. You always said so. But you never realized that you were wrong. I was only strong with you by my side. I can't be strong anymore. It's crushing me. Killing me slowly. I'm a coward. Not having the guts to do it quickly. But my patience has run out. I just long to see you smile once again, so I'll do what I have to do._

_Forever yours,_

_Mello_

_Mihael Keehl xoxo_

What? Do what? See me smile? I'll smile when you talk to me. When you eat and pull yourself together. I run my fingers through my hair. What are you going to do? I turn to take a step towards the room, to go after you, but stop dead in my tracks and my blood runs cold. You.. wouldn't. Would you?

_**BANG!**_

**Don't give in**

**Don't give up**

**We stalk tonight**

**Don't give in**

**Don't give up**

**We walk tonight**

No! I run faster towards the room, determined to reach you. Praying I'm not to late.

"Matt." I stop inches from the door and whirl around. "You don't want to go in there Matt."

"What? How.." You're standing by the table, where I was only moments before. You're wearing my favorite pair of leather pants. The ones you use to tease me. They lace up the sides as well as the front. But you weren't wearing that moments ago. And how did you get there so fast without me seeing? You frown.

"You.. Didn't know, did you?" You whisper. My head is spinning and I feel sick.

"Know what? You haven't spoken to me in months, Mello. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm so lost. Tell me, how can I save you?" I cry, moving slowly towards you, weary that you'll close up again. You gesture to the table, and for the first time, I see the papers next to your letter. Newspaper articles.

_**KIDNAPPER ACCOMPLACE KILLED IN LINE OF FIRE**_

The headline had a picture with it. It was my car. There were dozens of bullet holes in it. Puzzle pieces start falling together in my mind, and I feel a sob catch in my throat. I look up into your sad blue eyes.

"I'm dead?" I whisper the question, not quite ready to accept being parted from you. L's whispers make so much more sense. "I don't belong here. I'm not supposed to stay among the living. That's why I could hear him. But, I don't want to leave you." I wrap my arms around my waist and let the tears fall freely.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault, Matt. These past few days have been hell without you." Your fingers dance over my back, pulling me to you.

"Days?" I look up at you confused. "It's been months since this happened. Since you've spoken to me or touched me." Your brow furrows in confusion, and your face breaks to pity.

"It's only been six days, Matt." You speak slowly, as if to a child. I guess you can see the confusion and pain in my eyes. You cry out and crush me to you. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know that six days to me was months to you. I didn't mean to make you wait so long." You cry dramatically. I pull away reluctantly.

"I have to go, Mello. I was never supposed to stay. L's been trying to tell me, but I thought I was crazy. The dead don't belong among the living, and I'm dead." I say, the words almost sticking in my throat. It's still hard to believe. I hear you chuckle and look up to see you smiling at me warmly.

"_We_ are dead, now, Matt." You clarify. I look back towards the bedroom, the bang echoing in my head. The last piece clicks and I cry freely.

"I didn't want you to die. Why? Why would you do that?" I yell at you. You were meant to do great things. You smile, but your eyes are sad.

"I couldn't go on without you." You say. I want to protest, but I can't. I find myself sighing as you connect our lips once again. Finally. I melt at the touch. "It's ok now. We're together."


End file.
